Overcrowding
by Vixen With A Vendetta
Summary: The prison was inviting to the living and the dead, enticing to more than just Rick's group. They must adapt and survive, also discovering walkers are not the only thing in the prison... Daryl/OC, maybe more.
1. Chapter 1: Classification

The shuffle and scuffing of long since worn out shoes was the only sound in the narrow courtyard. Tattered remains of blue prison uniforms clung to the decomposing figures that shifted to and fro with nowhere to go. Trash littered the ground from the slight and desolate breeze, carrying the distant remains of a strong civilization. There were close to a dozen walkers in the confined space, but it was hard to tell exactly how many. Even the security camera perched on the corner of the building was devoid of life, lacking the small red recording light.

Frantic heavy steps could be heard from within the buildings, coming from the direction of cell block D and the laundry rooms. While the camera did not budge, another set of lens fixed it gazes as the figure burst through the heavy metal doors. At first the African American man did not appear to realize he had literally just run into a courtyard full of walkers. By the time he did however, the man that had been pursuing him was already lingering by the door with his hands on the metal gate.

The metal screeched and clanged as the gate was closed upon the black man as the walkers started to shuffle towards him, hands already grasping in the air. Upon the roof, a head jerked back in surprise at the exchange, but remained unnoticed by the two men.

"_I suggest you run_," was legible on the second man's lips before turning his back and closing the door. Leaving the first man to scream for his life.

Within moments, the walkers were upon the man and he was pulled down to his knees. His screams were merely an echo of all the ones that had come before him, the man upon the roof did not turn away as he stared with a frown etched deeply on his face. Mud and dirt were smeared heavily against the deep bronze skin, worn from the weather and strain of the past year. His clothing was dark, stained but clearly bore the patterned camouflage of military garments. Normally he wore a helmet and camouflaged himself better, but he hadn't expected to see the two men this deep into the prison. The last sighting of the new group was in the large field and cell block C, as far as he knew. A bow with a couple of arrows laid by his side as well as a pistol with a silencer mounted to it.

He cursed in his head and hesitated upon the roof top. The heat of the day had long since dried the mud upon his face and hands, causing it to start and itch against his skin. Before he could decide whether or not to hold his position or return to report what he saw, another pair of footsteps crunched against the gravel of the rooftop. Taking the binoculars away from his eyes, the man tucked them away in the pack on his back and tucked the arrows in as well, but with the feathered end sticking out to make it easy to grab in a moment.

Coming to a crouch beside him was another figure dressed in similar fatigues. This one was notably shorter; about five foot four at best. The mud and grime was smeared so heavily on this one only distinct green eyes made it even clear it was still human. Their builds contrasted strongly, the first man being a tall and stocker type, almost like he had been a linebacker in high school at one point. The other was slender and more compact, difficult to estimate just how strong with the baggy and dirty army clothing.

The second person carried another hunting bow, which at one point may have been accented a bright orange color. However, now it was stained heavily with earthy tones in the same manner as the rest of the clothing. The sandy blonde hair of them was tucked under the helmet and crusted with twigs and mud all around the hairline and back of the neck. A black quiver of arrows with turkey feathers protruding out of the top was slung across their back.

"Status?" the second person commanded in a voice hoarse from lack of water, hands sweaty and mixing with the caked mud.

"The leader just ran one of their own into a crowd of gnawers," the first man spoke with a heavy accent that made the words sound more like 'gnawahs' and 'leadah'. The gurgling and ripping of flesh could still be heard below them as the walkers crowded around the gutted victim. The second peered over the edge and frowned at the dead fest below them.

"That one wasn't with them when they entered the perimeter and he's wearing prisoner garments," the second declared in a cooler and more authoritative voice. Silence befell them a few moments while the two contemplated the implications of another survivor that they had not accounted for.

"Do you think it's one of the ones from the cafeteria?" the man asked.

The smaller one nodded, "It's plausible. We were never able to get a visual on those survivors completely from the windows. Were you seen?"

He snorted slightly, "Nah, they're too busy looking in front of them and at their ankles to even look up. Won't last for long though."

He sighed and shook his head slightly, averting his eyes from the gore below. "It's hard to believe a police officer could do that to someone, even in all of those," he muttered.

"Sheriff," the small one correctly decisively, they had speculated earlier the man was police based on the way he carried himself and his gun in the field the previous day.

"How do you know?" he asked with a hint of surprise.

"We spotted the kid heading towards the infirmary with a Sheriff's hat on, likely the man's son." They both stiffened at the implication of the child infiltrating some of the territory they had already covered. The infirmary hadn't been cleaned out when they got there because at that time they thought they were the only ones and could simply return later if they needed the supplies. "I set a few gnawers lose to try to deter him, but he took care of them rather easily. He only took a small stash of the supplies though. Someone in their group must be hurt and likely will need more supplies soon," small one explained in a cool and expressionless tone, lacking the same accent of the other man.

At this information, the man glared harshly at his companion. "You set walkers on a _child_?" he hisses venomously.

Unmoved, the small one looked him squarely in the eyes with a stony expression. "It was necessary. It would've been more suspicious for the child to find the infirmary completely untouched and not a gnawer in sight."

The man scoffed and stood up and picked up his weapons, walking away from the edge and back towards the direction the small one had come from. He tucked the pistol into the waist of his pants and kept the bow at his side. "That's messed up and you _know_ it," he spat.

Not bothered by his anger, the small one stood up and quickly fell in stride just behind him and off to his right shoulder. "I'm aware. The child is fine though, he can handle himself. The real problem is they'll likely return to the infirmary. Lucas reported they're likely staying in cell block C and they've already secured cell block D, it'll only be a matter of time before they secure more and they must not reach the buses," small one carried on passed the moral subject.

"Lucas and Jonathan are back at the buses right now. We need to come up with a plan to handle this situation," the man declared and the other nodded in agreement. Turning to look at the small one, he asked cautiously, "Has the General given this group a classification?"

They both paused at the center of the prison rooftop. Both of them kept a firm grasp on their bows while they regarded each other. The taller man had a good head's height on his partner and broader shoulders, clearly able to outmatch the other in strength but hard to judge for speed.

"Yes. Level three," the small one declared. "While the group does have women and children, they are low on supplies and at least one is injured. They're desperate and dangerous."

"Elimination?" he sighed and glanced towards the horizon. He didn't like this situation at all and they were not expecting company so soon. But he did trust the judgment of the General, it had gotten them this far already.

"Undetermined, pending further observation," the other answered in an automatic like tone before both of them turned to head back to their camp.

* * *

Rick returned into the cell block from outside, having just spoken to Lori. The tension between them was still heavy and unmoving. As much as he tried not to dwell on his wife these days, she had made a good point. Today was a good day, they found food and Hershel is alive. Injured and handicapped in a way they were not prepared for, but he was alive.

His bones ached and his arms burned from the trials of the day, but that didn't stop him as he made his way back towards the row. Upon seeing him, Carl nodded and unlocked the door, allowing for his father to pass. Rick was silently relieved to finally see his son taking something completely serious. The boy was really starting to mature in a different way through the winter.

Daryl was waiting for him by the door, leaning against the wall and biting on his thumb. His crossbow was hung across his back and blue eyes dark in contemplation. This caused Rick to stop in his steps, "Something wrong?"

"Not sure," Daryl grunted and Rick furrowed his brows deeply at him. "Think ya need to see sumthin'," Daryl moved for Rick to follow him and they both exited back out the cell block. Carl stared at him curiously, hesitating whether or not to follow them, but ultimately just opting to lock the gate behind them.

Anxious and out of habit, Rick's hand hovered around his belt and near his gun as the two stepped outside. Daryl headed towards the direction of the gate between them and the open courtyard, but instead proceeded further down along the fence and just around the corner of the building to the right. Evening was getting ready to set in, but there was still clear daylight and the heat was subsiding. Daryl stopped by the fence and nodded towards it, his eyes still on the ground and arms folded, apparently in deep thought.

Rick glanced around them and at the fence, which gleamed in the light and towered above them. He then looked towards the tree line, which was off set from the fence by a considerable distance. There didn't seem to be any movement in the woods and silence laid heavily upon them, not even the call of birds from the woods.

"What am I looking at, Daryl?" The Sheriff questioned after not seeing the apparent danger.

"Look at the wire," Daryl muttered quietly, even though there was no one else to hear them.

Rick's eyes flickered to Daryl before back to the fence and looking up slowly towards the top. Barbed wire ran in a circular mess along the top of the fence and it was a moment before he spotted what had the hunter so on edge and questioning what it could mean.

A gap had been cut in the wire about three feet wide.

* * *

_Author's Note: Hello everyone! This is my first fanfic in a loooong time, so please be kind with reviews! I'm not a military brat and I'm not going to pretend to be, but if anyone has good advice on weapons and such I would greatly appreciate it. Please review and let me know what you think, I'm nervous since this is my first writing in a while. I recognize this chapter is a bit of a tease with so little, but so much information given. Hope you enjoyed it!  
_

_I do not own the Walking Dead. As you can see, this picks up directly from Season Three, I may continue to follow the plot line or divert into my own. We'll see!  
_


	2. Chapter 2: Listerine

"Whoa, that's some ninja-level fence climbing!" Glenn gawked at the gap in the fence, having joined Rick and Daryl once he noticed their absence, carrying a shotgun loosely in his hands. The three hadn't informed the rest of the group of their discovery while they contemplated the implications that it brought.

"Why don't you show us how's it done?" Daryl smirked and nudged Glenn roughly in the shoulder, causing the young man to falter slightly in his steps.

He rubbed his shoulder slightly defensively and muttered, "Not all Asians are ninjas."

"Enough," Rick cut the banter short tersely, having no patience after the exhausting day. "Now, we don't know whoever cut that is still here, or they may have done it while escaping at the outbreak," He mused.

Daryl shook his head abruptly, "If they were leaving, why would take the wire with them?" He shrugged and looked around. The other two glanced and sure enough, the missing cut of barb wasn't anywhere in immediate sight. Daryl squinted and stared harder at the fencing, adding, "And if they were leaving, they would've just cut straight through, not go over the fence… This way keeps walkers out."

Rick ran his hand through his hair in frustration, nodding barely to Daryl. "Right and we can't take any risks… So we'll need a night watch." Pointing to the guard tower, "Up there, so we can see our cell block entrance and the field. Glenn, you take first watch, I'll take second and then Daryl takes the last shift."

"Until we know what we're dealing with, don't tell the others and no one goes off by themselves," Rick told the two before heading back inside. Daryl and Glenn nodded past the point of questioning the decision after the long day. The door slammed with a screech behind Rick.

"Spiderman," Glenn blurted out randomly.

"What?" Daryl gave him a funny look.

Glenn shrugged sheepishly. "Spiderman could climb buildings and stuff… he wasn't Asian."

Daryl snorted and rolled his eyes. "Fuckin' idiot," he said before following after Rick back inside. "I ain't got time for this comic book shit," he muttered along the way.

Glenn moved to head in the direction of the mentioned guard tower while the other two went back inside. In his gut, Glenn did not like the idea of being outside in the tower, in this creepy prison for a good part of the night, by himself with the potential danger from the living and the dead.

The rest of the group was mostly huddled near Hershel's cell. Carl let Rick back into the cell block and T-Dog nodded at him as he leaned against the wall. Maggie and Beth were still attentive by Hershel's side, who was mostly nodding in and out from the exhaustion and pain. Lori had made herself scarce by rationing out the food from the cafeteria.

"Everyone try to get some rest," Rick order with a nod. "Tomorrow we'll head to the infirmary to get any painkillers we can for Hershel and clear out the courtyard."

* * *

Meanwhile on the other side of the prison, near the administration building was parked two school buses. They were positioned in an L shape on the backside of the building, which was conjoined with the smaller visitor center, creating a square campsite at the corner of the two buildings. The buses had at one point then a bright yellow, but the paint was covered in a mess of earth tones, mostly light tans, in a design that looked literally nothing more than buckets had been poured and splattered against the bus in a hurry. Some of the windows had been busted out, but all of them were now covered by metal mesh and the front engines were covered with a heavy duty cage.

In the center of the square, a small light burned from a fire reduced to mostly embers. It gave off enough to see four figures sitting around the fire on wooden crates and sleeping bags nearby.

"How many are there?" asked Lucas, a gentle man with rounded features. He wore the same uniforms that the others did, but his was noticeably cleaner and not as loaded with knives and accessories on his belt and back. He appeared to be a man that may have been the lawyer type or such before everything went to hell, the type that didn't do heavy work with their hands.

"Ten, but at least one is injured, but we don't know the circumstances," the tall man from the rooftop answered, his steel-blue eyes standing out more now that the grime had been washed away. He ran a hand through his dark hair, which was starting to grey from age and the stress of the past year. The short one from earlier sat on his right side, just as dirty and unidentifiable as before. Instead of looking at the men in the circle, the short one's head was turned down and focused on a black device which had a few extra wires and switches attached it, clearly homemade modifications. Otherwise, their posture was stiff, sitting upright rigidly while the others were relaxing after the long day.

"What you got there, RadioShack?" asked the last man, Jonathan, who had a heavy New York accent, distinctly different from the other guy. He had a buzzed hair style of dark hair and rugged features. His hands were bruised and scarred from a lifestyle of working with them.

The short one shrugged their shoulders and refused to look up from their hands, never mind make eye contact with the man. Within moments, 'RadioShack' had the back case removed with a screwdriver and started to study the inside contents more closely. "Fixing the RC remote," 'RadioShack' muttered tersely, never looking up.

With a couple of nods, silence fell upon the group. Jonathan reached into his pack and pulled out an already opened bundle of beef jerky, starting to tear into it roughly. "What do you guys miss the most right now?" He eventually asked, the others having played this game frequently and knew he was referring to before things went to shit.

"Heating and air condition," Lucas answered quickly, wiping the back of his hand against his forehead and earning a few smirks.

"No shit," Jonathan chuckled and then looked at 'RadioShack', who was clearly listening but still working. "What about you, 'Shack?"

'RadioShack' stiffened at the direct address, but continued looking down at their hands. It was hard to tell under all the mud, but you could see their nose scrunch and mouth twitch back and forth a moment. "Listerine," 'RadioShack' with a decisive nod.

Jonathan snorted and shook his head a bit. The taller man laughed out loud, his voice echoing slightly off the brick walls, before teasing 'RadioShack'. "Now, the end of the world is not an acceptable excuse for neglecting oral hygiene…"

'RadioShack' didn't answer, but with a slight smirk at the corner of their mouth and returned to work on the controller. Not bothered by the lack of socializing, the man continued, "I could use a cold beer at Fenway… even if it was always overpriced!"

Jonathan rolled his eyes and smirked at the older man, piping up, "I'll tell what I miss… the 2009 world series, 4-2 –"

"Fuck you, Johnny!" He cut him off, the Boston accent starting to rear its ugly head while 'RadioShack' and Lucas bit their tongues to keep from busting out laughing. "Goddamnit, world goes to shit and I'm stuck with a fucking Yankee," He ranted on.

Jonathan threw up his hands in mock surrender with a cocky smile on his face. "I'm just saying, who has more championships?"

"Go fuck ya'self!" He barked, the other three no longer able to contain their laughter.

Before the rivalry could get too riled up, Lucas cut in with a question that had been on all their minds. "Has the General come up with a plan?"

The atmosphere of the circle grew serious as the three men looked towards 'RadioShack', who at this point had finished their work and started to screw the back case back onto the controller. With a nod, 'RadioShack' put the device down while Jonathan fished out a cigarette from his back pocket.

"Yes, a group of this size and dynamic will be looking for a permanent location, thus this prison. Confrontation between our group and theirs is inevitable, but dominancy must be established. The more area they clear of the gnawers, they will assume to be their territory. Therefore, we must make our presence known soon before they see a majority of the prison grounds as being their territory," 'RadioShack' spoke in the same expressionless tone from earlier, devoid of the humor from earlier.

"Two things must be accomplished before we make our presence known. First, we must undermine their sense of security and control. They won't be as assertive if they have more than just walkers to fear. Second, we must observe the group. After today, they'll likely keep watches. We will need to know who and where, what blind spots they have, how many shifts and how long, patterns of behavior," 'RadioShack' carried on and it was not lost on the men how impersonal the other group was spoken about. As if they were not another group of living survivors just trying to make it in this new world.

"With that information, we'll confront the group when the leader and strongest fighter are isolated from the rest. We're weaker individually than united together," 'RadioShack' finished, green eyes fixated on the fire before them.

Silence lingered a moment with no objections to the plan. The older man nodded and stood up slowly with a slight grunt. "Right then, I'll take first watch. Lucas second and Jonathan third."

"Rest up, boys. Tomorrow we welcome the neighbors," He said with a slight smirk before moving away from the camp and into the darkness.

* * *

The next morning the courtyard cleanup was left to Glenn and the rest of the women. At least one stayed with Hershel at any given point. The rest of the night had passed by peacefully with just the rotation of guards at the watch tower. Beth was now perched at the top of the tower with a shotgun in hand, keeping her eyes towards the horizon and passing along the movement in the courtyard. Carol and Maggie were moving the bodies into a pile near the fence, to be burned later, while Lori was inside with Hershel.

Rick, Daryl, T-Dog, and Carl were making their way through cell block D. Even though Rick preferred Carl to stay back and keep an eye on the women, they needed him to show the route he took to the infirmary. While he had been great at grabbing bandages and such for Hershel, the boy had no knowledge of pharmaceuticals and what types of drugs and antibiotics to get. They moved through the opposite end of the cell block that they had dropped the two remaining prisoners off. Not surprisingly, they didn't see any sign of them and Rick preferred it that way.

The group emerged on the other side of the cell block into a small courtyard. Daryl had his crossbow drawn and ready, T-Dog with the riot shield and hatchet, Rick with the machete, and Carl didn't have his weapon drawn but a pistol by his belt. Even though the boy had insisted the area was clear, they were ready.

Before them they could see why the boy had gone to the infirmary, it wasn't far from the cell block and clearly marked with the iconic Red Cross above the doors. The brick building had two other entrances, but they were surrounded by caged walkways going into different parts of the prison, leaving just one courtyard entrance. The infirmary appeared to be oddly untouched, most of the windows were intact and no signs of anyone having attempted to hole up within it. Perhaps it had been one of the first locations to fall to the infection and everyone cleared out fast.

Glancing around, they didn't see any sign of movement in the courtyard and the four began to cross it, two covering behind them and Rick in the front with Carl. Half way across, Carl stopped short in confusion and started searching around with his eyes. The rest of the group halted, T-Dog was already visibly on edge from following the boy instead of Rick. "What is it, Carl?" Rick asked his son.

"I killed two walkers… they were out here.. now they're gone," Carl stammered in confusion. Rick exchanged a look between T-Dog and Daryl.

"Are you sure?" Rick questioned. The group tensed and Carl drew his gun stepped away from the three.

"Yeah! One was right here," He pointed with the gun to the ground, where there was a dark red stain and the splinters of what could've been bone. "I got it in the head, no way it could've gotten up…"

While he spoke, Daryl moved closer to the doors of the infirmary, which were heavy metal double doors. What was more alarming than the missing walkers were the door handles. Daryl let out a low whistle to get Rick's attention. The other three looked up and Daryl jerked his direction towards the handle. "I don't suppose this was here earlier either?" He grunted, referring to a heavy chain that was padlocked on the handles of the door now.

Carl shook his head no. T-Dog's eyes started to dart around the courtyard, as if someone pulling a prank was about to jump out at any moment.

Rick stepped closer to the doors and examined the chain and lock. They would need some heavy bolt cutters to even make a scratch on it.

"There's only two other people that could know where this infirmary is," Daryl spoke lowly to Rick, knowing full well what could come of the implication.

"Right," Rick nodded. "We need have a talk with the prisoners." While no one wanted to say exactly what type of talk that would be, the group knew exactly what it meant after the Randall situation. They couldn't take any risks and had to look out for the safety of their group. "Let's get back to the others and let them know what's happening…"

* * *

_Author's Note: Hey everyone! Thanks for such a positive response to the first chapter. I hope you enjoyed this one, let me know what you think, I appreciate feedback! I know some are looking forward to the confrontation between the two groups but there had to be some build up first, so I will tell you that it happens in the next chapter! _

_Also I've decided I don't like the layout of the prison from the TV show, so I actually drew my own prison layout and I'll have that scanned and uploaded for everyone to view in the next chapter._


	3. Chapter 3: General

Rick, Carl, Daryl, and T-Dog backtracked the way they came from the infirmary and into cell block D.

"Carl, go back and get the others inside the cell block. Lock yourselves in and keep the others out of sight from the door way," Rick ordered firmly and the young boy nodded eagerly. In a moment, he was gone in the direction of cell block C. Daryl and T-Dog stayed with Rick, exchanging looks and kept their weapons drawn.

"Let's go," Rick said to the other two men and the trio moved down the length of cell block D in the direction they had dropped off Axel and Oscar before.

A short while later, the group was huddled into the cell block with the gate locked. Beth, Carol, and Lori sat in the cell with Hershel, who was barely awake and grasping Beth's hand. Glenn and Maggie stood in front of the gate, weapons in hand, to partly obscure the view of the rest of the group. Carl was behind them, every now and then trying to peer around them at the scene before them.

They had brought the two prisoners in at gun point, or crossbow in Daryl's case. T-Dog had his gun pointed at Axel while Daryl had his crossbow raised at Oscar. Rick and Oscar were doing most of the talking, while the other three did enough glaring that it even made Glenn and Maggie feel small in the room.

"What's this all about?" Axel demanded. The heat of the day was beginning to show on everyone, dripping in sweat from the lack of air circulation in the building.

"The deal," Rick said coldly, looking at Axel and then back to Oscar with his hands on his hips. "The deal was half and half. Even. No exceptions."

"Okay, and we divided up the food," Oscar nodded, the old man with a wide-eyed expression. Rick wasn't sure if he was purposely playing daft.

"Not talkin' about food," Daryl grunted out, taking a step closer to Oscar. The old man stared at the point of his arrow, his hands shaking slightly as he held them in the air.

"What _are_ you talking about?" Axel said, not intimidated by gun pointed at his head.

"The infirmary," Rick declared. A moment passed without a reaction from Axel and Oscar, so he clarified, "Yesterday it was unlocked. Now it's chained up."

"It wasn't us!" Oscar pleaded quickly, causing Daryl to bark at him. "Cut the shit!"

"Hey!" Axel barked, making T-Dog shift anxiously on his feet, but the neither man moved from where they were. "We're not hurt. Why would we mess with the infirmary?"

"You already admitted to recreational use," T-Dog directed at Oscar, drawing most eyes upon the fragile man.

He started shaking his head, his eyes darting from Axel to Rick. "No no! I've been clean for 15 months," He tried to plead with Rick.

"That don't mean shit," Daryl grunted.

"We haven't been over there! I swear it. We've been dealing with our dead, man. It must've been someone else!" Oscar tried to ignore the aggressive redneck, focusing on Rick for a voice of reason.

"So you picked up the walkers outside?" Rick tried to zero in and fill in the gaps. Oscar stopped and gave him a puzzled look.

"No, man. We've been inside all day. We're not exactly armed to be roaming around, remember?" Axel spoke up, giving Rick a confused look as well.

Silence fell upon the group as Rick considered their case. The air was thick enough to be cut with a knife. Their story wasn't very solid, but at the same time plausible. After their confrontation with Tomas, Rick honestly wasn't sure how much weight to their claims. Glenn shifted uncomfortably on his feet. No one seemed to notice to young Carl peering out from behind Maggie, his hands clutched on the bars.

"You really think other people could be here?" Rick asked, seeming to consider the possibility, but still on edge about the idea of trusting them.

Oscar nodded immediately, "Yes, sir. This place is a lot bigger than I think you realize." Daryl and T-Dog exchanged a tense glance at the change of direction in the conversation.

Rick clenched his jaw a moment, staring hard at Oscar, who just swallowed nervously. The sweat could be seen running down from his forehead. "Do you think could draw a map?" Rick asked Oscar. Axel remained silent and didn't appear to be interested in any sort of cooperation.

Oscar relaxed slightly and nodded confidently. "Sure. I had only been here a couple of months before things went weird, but I know my way around."

Rick turned and nodded to Glenn. Carl had already ducked away and gotten the spray can they used earlier for marking hallways, passing it through the bars to Glenn. He tossed it to Rick, who passed it off to Oscar. "On the wall," Rick said, nodding in its direction. Daryl and Rick took a step back from Oscar, giving him room and always staying out of his reach, in case he tried anything stupid.

Oscar uncapped the can nervously, "I'm no artist, but I'll do my best." He turned to the wall, giving it a thoughtful look and rubbing his chin for a moment before setting to work. Silence filled the room save for the hissing of the spray can as Oscar started to paint white shapes on the wall. Slowly the shape of the prison came to be, forming almost an arrowhead, and then he moved onto filling in the buildings, fences and caged walkways. Lastly, Oscar started to mark the purposes of each building, finishing by marking out the cell blocks according to their letter assignment. The map ended up being sprawled across most of the wall and everyone took a long moment, examining it and realizing Oscar wasn't kidding around about the size of the prison.

_[SEE AUTHOR PROFILE FOR MAP]_

"Holy shit," Glenn couldn't help but mutter, resisting the urge to step closer. Rick furrowed his brows, glancing over the labels of each building.

Daryl lowered his bow slightly, still pointed at Oscar, and snorted, "What the hell kind of prison has a greenhouse?"

"Medium security-level prison, they allow for more prisoner movement and educational programs for integration back into society," Oscar answered, almost in a matter of fact type of tone. He then frowned and amended, "They used to, I should say."

Rick regarded the map for a long moment, trying not to let his expression show the apprehension he had about the apparent fact they hadn't even cleared a quarter of the prison. There were still roughly about a dozen buildings for them to cover. "What else can you tell us about these buildings?" He requested of Oscar.

Oscar rubbed the scruff on his chin nervously before shrugging his shoulders. "I can't tell you the current state of things, since we been in the cafeteria the whole time. But most of the buildings are two stories with basement levels. That's how you came into cafeteria. I don't know what buildings connect where underground, but there's not many. A lot of the independent buildings have exterior doors to outside areas, but only guards were allowed to use those so I'm not familiar with those," He rambled on, getting more nervous by the glares from Rick's group, mostly Daryl.

"But I do know that every cell block as showers, utilities and storage in the basement level. Cell block A is the largest, had the general population so to speak, the basement level had a second cafeteria in there," Oscar let his voice trail off, glancing between Rick and Daryl.

Rick nodded, listening to the information and then pointed to the shape in the center of that prison. "What's this?"

"That's the eye, or the center cage, the quickest way to move from cell block to cell block. It was monitored by the security system in the tower in the middle there, but it's gotta to be filled with those creatures now the power is out," Oscar answered.

Before Rick could say more, T-Dog spoke up from the back. "Does that say Armory?" He asked, referring to the small building off shooting from the Recreation building.

Oscar nodded hesitantly.

"You don't want to go there," Axel warned, almost surprising the others since he had been so quiet the whole time.

"Why not?" Daryl asked sharply. The others had the same thought on their mind. They were already low on ammo and the chance to get their hands on some more was not an opportunity they could pass up.

Axel looked at him coldly. "When things got bad, it was like a fucking warzone. I never heard so much gunfire."

"It's true. I don't know if guards or prisoners got there first, but it must've been wiped out… and Lord only knows what is left there now," Oscar backed him up with a terrified look at the thought of going to that part of the prison.

Rick sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his hair, weighing the situation in his mind. "There's any number of places someone of whatever intentions could be," Rick declared what everyone else already had on their mind. He then made a decision that he could only hope that he wouldn't come to regret later on.

"Would you two be willing to help us clear the rest of the prison? With the same deal in mind," Rick asked, looking between Oscar and Axel. Daryl gave him a surprised expression, but could recognize they would need as much manpower as possible with the newly known size of the prison now.

Oscar swallowed nervously before slowly nodding his head and shrugging, "Sure… This is my home, for better or worse, I'm not going anywhere."

Axel nodded slowly, still with a stony expression before saying tersely, "I will."

"Alright," Rick nodded gravely. "Let's reconvene at noon tomorrow with a plan. I suggest everyone lies low the rest the day, stay inside as much possible." The others nodded or didn't express any sign of objection at the order. Daryl lowered the crossbow from Oscar, as did T-Dog the gun from Axel and took a step to the side to allow them to leave. "We can meet in the exercise field and discuss how to proceed," He directed more at Oscar and Axel.

The two didn't hesitate at their apparent dismissal and ducked out of the cell block. The rest of the group didn't move until they were the final slam of the exterior doors. Daryl slung his crossbow back over his shoulder and bit the inside of his mouth in consideration. The only sound came from the shuffle of the others within the cell block and Carl unlocking the gate. Maggie and Glenn stepped away to allow for Lori, Carol and Beth to emerge.

"Do you really think it wasn't them?" Carol asked Rick.

Rich shook his head with a worried expression of a man that the weight of the world on his shoulders. "I'm not certain, to be honest, but I didn't have enough reason not to believe them… and if this map is true, it's possible it wasn't them," He explained.

"But we're not going to take chances. Everyone stays inside until the meeting tomorrow," He continued more assertively. "T-Dog, Glenn, and Maggie, you three go check out the basement. There might be some supplies in those storage closets that Oscar mentioned and maybe something to remove the chain on the infirmary."

"Two people will stay on watch at the tower. Daryl and I will go first," Rick finished, looking to his partner who nodded without looking up. Needing no more direction, bodies started to move about with their new tasks. Rick and Daryl moved to exit the building towards the guard tower by the gate to the exercise field with Daryl in the lead.

Daryl had to squint his eyes to adjust to the sunlight as they stepped outside. He took several steps forward, glancing around the courtyard before coming to a hesitant halt as his eyes fell upon the steel door leading up to the top of the guard tower. "'the hell?" He grunted and pulled over his crossbow, raising it before him.

Next to the guard tower door against the concrete wall, there was a figure sitting on the ground with the back propped up against the tower wall. It was slightly slumped and didn't appear to be moving, but Daryl was more alarmed by its garments. It wore heavy black boots that laced up half up the shin and matching style of gloves. The body was dressed clearly in what was a military issued uniform, dirtied and stained by the wear of the last year. Daryl couldn't make out whether it was a woman or a man because an obstructive gas mask covered the face of whatever it was. The hose hung down lamely in front of it, not attached to anything. The arms hung limply by the sides and he could make out a belt which carried a number of items, possibly a knife, gun and maybe a radio among other things. He could tell the figure wasn't properly dressed for the gas mask, no clean air tank or anything.

"Walker?" Rick questioned in a hoarse whisper a few steps behind Daryl, his hand gripping the machete tightly in his hand.

"Probably," Daryl grunted and in the same motion raised the crossbow to eye level, to aim a shot at the head. His finger slid over the trigger and pulled, firing the bolt off.

But it didn't hit the target.

The figure moved in a swift and fast motion as it ducked out of the way of the bolt. The arrow splintered and cracked against the concrete wall, ricocheting off to the side. The military figure had rolled to the side in a fluid motion until it landed on its knee and turned to Daryl with a black Glock drawn from its holster

"Drop the weapons, hands in the air!" A voice bellowed out from the mask, muffled and distorted. The gun was pointed at clearly at Daryl's head.

It had all happened so fast and in a blink, Daryl only swore loudly and Rick barely raised the machete, but halted seeing the gun trained on his partner.

"_Drop the weapons_!" The voice repeated, this time they rose to their feet, showing whoever it was to be rather short actually.

Rick snapped out of his stunned surprise. "Okay, okay stay calm…" His voice slipped into the same tone he used when he was still a Sheriff. "See, I'm lowering my weapon," He dropped his machete to the ground with a clatter as he spoke and slowly raised his hands in the air before him.

Daryl didn't move from his spot, still clutching to his crossbow and glaring at the military person fiercely. But even Daryl knew his crossbow was useless right now, he would have a bullet between his eyes before he could even draw the string back to reload. "Daryl," Rick hissed at the redneck. Swearing loudly again, the hunter dropped his bow on the ground and put his hands in the air by his head as well.

"Backs against the wall," The gas mask ordered again firmly, the gun still trained on Daryl as the figure took a few steps back away from them. Clearly they were tense and very aware of both of their movements. Rick took slow steps towards Daryl and placed his back against the wall of the guard tower. Daryl followed his lead much more reluctantly and there were still several feet between the two of the men.

"What the fuck is this?" Daryl snarled.

"Enough. You'll address the General," The gas mask snapped in response.

Another figure appeared from around the corner of the cell block. Daryl hissed another swear under his breath. This one was dressed similar to the gas masked one with military garments and solid black AK-47 being carried in his hands, only half leveled to aim. This one wore just a helmet and they could make out the face of a man with scruff and a harsh gaze.

"The General? Are you military?" Rick questioned, catching onto the name mentioned. The gas mask one remained silent instead and did not respond. The second man stepped forward with a smirk on his face, holding his gun more loosely.

"No, we're just organized," The second man spoke up with his accent throwing off some of the words.

"You're the General?" Rick questioned in more a statement than anything else.

The man regarded him with a cold smile for a long moment before answering, "And you must be the Sheriff."

Rick and Daryl tensed, exchanging a glance out of the corner of their eyes. Rick wasn't sure if the man was saying that as a figure of speech, but he had to since there was no way that he could know he's a Sheriff.

"Don't mind RadioShack over there," the 'General' nodded to his partner who stood still as a statue, not deterred from pointing the gun at Daryl. "Not one for manners." The 'General' had come as quickly as possible when he was raised on the radio by RadioShack. They hadn't been planning to confront this group so soon, but when the watches spotted that they had all gone inside of cell block C without any guards outside, it was an opportunity they couldn't pass up on. RadioShack got into position first by the guard tower, having been observing the group at the time from the woods. The 'General' had only just arrived, but played it off nonchalantly as if he had been waiting around the corner the whole time.

"What do you want from us?" Rick hissed, not amused by the sickly light hearted manner of the 'General'.

The man in question wasn't bothered by his tone and replied coolly, "I don't believe you're in the position to be asking questions."

He continued on, not waiting for a reaction from Rick, "Now we have some questions for you and I'm going to remind you of a few points before you answer." The threatening tone was not lost on Rick.

"First, you have no idea how many of my group there is and for how long we've been watching your group. Second, we're not military, so we do not have the same moral obligation to protect civilian life." As he spoke, his eyes drifted over to Daryl, whom fists were clenched and he looked like a feral animal ready to pounce and rip him apart, but held back because of the gun.

The 'General' looked back to Rick, "But I will tell you one thing. I do not have patience for inconsistent stories. It would be in your best interest for your story to match what we already know. So think _very_ carefully about your answers."

Rick's harsh glare was the only sign of acknowledgement for the 'General' as a heavy silence fell upon the four. Undeterred, the 'General' proceeded, "Now how many are there of you?"

Rick shifted uncomfortably on his feet, but even he could recognize when he was back into a corner. "Ten."

"Women and children?"

Rick hesitated longer for this answer, feeling his stomach tying into knots at the thought of compromising the safety of his children and the rest of the group. He swallowed dryly and merely nodded his head.

If the 'General' had a reaction, he hid it rather well while his expression remained the same. "What's your purpose here?"

"We're just looking for somewhere safe to settle," Rick hated he had to look this man in the eye and try to justify themselves. They had already shed so much blood for the little bit they did gain.

Neither satisfaction nor dissatisfaction was expressed at this answer. "What have you been doing since you got here?"

Rick clenched his jaw heavily at this question. The man had made a good point, they had no idea how long this group has been watching them and they've apparently been doing a good job of it to pull such a move as swiftly as this one on them. Perhaps they were also responsible for some of the other abnormalities in this prison. Regardless, he still didn't feel comfortable laying everything out there for them to know. But at the same time, seeing the way these men were dressed and carried those weapons so comfortable, he didn't doubt for a moment they would hesitate to stick to their word.

"We cleared cell blocks C and D, the cafeteria and tried to get into the infirmary," Rick answered shortly.

The 'General' cocked his head slightly to the side, not exactly in surprise but definite interest. "The infirmary? Someone hurt?"

"One of ours got bit in the leg…" Rick explained, "We cut it off before the infection spread. No fever. We went to get antibiotics and pain killers from the infirmary but it was locked and chained up." The implication was clear in his eyes as he stared at the 'General', questioning if they were the ones that put the chain on the locks.

The 'General' pressed his lips into a thin line as he considered Rick's words and whether there was complete truth in them. His tone then lighted up a bit, "Alright then. I can have my boys see what they can do about the chain and there may even be some crutches in there, but don't take more than what is absolutely necessary." The 'General' suggested, but did not take responsibility for putting the chain on there in the first place. "What do you plan to do next?"

Rick glanced over at Daryl anxiously, who didn't relax but gave him a curt half shrug. "We're meeting tomorrow at noon with the prisoners in the exercise field to discuss clearing out the rest of the prison of walkers," Rick stated.

The 'General' nodded and looked more directly at RadioShack, who had still not budged. "Ahh, so the survivors are not part of your group…" The 'General' mused out loud, more so to himself and his partner.

"Well, Sheriff, you can count on my group's presence at that meeting," the 'General' declared in a tone that made it clear it wasn't open for discussion.

However, that never stopped Daryl. He snarled at him, "Pullin' guns on us an' ya expect us to team together?"

The 'General' turned to regard him frankly, "Son, it's the man that wants to shake your hand these days instead of pulling a gun on you that you should be more suspicious of." His eyes passed along each man in the group, "We all know that."

Not waiting for a response, he ordered RadioShack, "Let's go, noon tomorrow." Just like that, the still gas mask figure jerked to life and lowered the weapon from Daryl's head. The two military figures turned their backs and darted quickly away in the direction of cell block D, disappearing around the far corner from sight.

Had Daryl or Rick brought a gun out with them, Daryl could've easily gotten a shot off in one of their backs. But neither of them was expecting such an ambush within a few yards of the area they had just secured. Daryl picked up his crossbow, he wouldn't have been able to get it loaded before they were gone either. "_Fuckers_," He swore loudly, next time he would bring more than just a knife to a gun fight.

* * *

_Author's Note: There is it! The first confrontation between the groups! For next chapter, I won't give it away, but I will tell you there's a confrontation between Daryl and RadioShack, a lot to be learned! This was a long chapter, but I didn't want to leave everyone hanging._

_Now the map is on my profile under Overcrowding (Ignore all the junk from really old other stories)  
_

_Notes about the map: It's sloppy, but my drawing sucks and I figured so would Oscar's. Solid lines are security fences. Dotted lines are caged walkways. Doors, gates, roof accesses, basement levels, etc. are NOT marked. It's only "Oscar's knowledge" of the prison before the outbreak._

_If you have any questions about the story, feel free to ask them in a review and I'll probably PM you a response. As always, please read and review! Feedback is my biggest motivator.  
_


	4. Chapter 4: Feral

_Note: If I hadn't said it before… I don't own anything from the TWD._

After the confrontation with the 'General' and 'RadioShack', Rick and Daryl had gone back inside the cell block to tell the others what happened. The worry could be seen clearly on the members of the group, since they weren't exactly sure what to make of the situation. While the group had said they were not military, this was the closest form of military alive they had run into. But even then everyone still recognized they posed a large threat, as the 'General' had so clearly stated. The heat alone the two was carrying was enough for Rick to not immediately pursue them or try to antagonize until they came up with a plan.

Rick and Daryl returned outside to the guard tower for their watch. Leaving the cell block, they had their weapons drawn, in case there was reappearance, but the courtyard was dead silent. Daryl was completely on edge throughout his watch, knowing he was potentially being watched made his skin itch. He didn't like being kept in these oppressive walls, the same type he had worked to stay out of while his brother routinely visited the county ones. By the end of their shift, Daryl had made up his mind that he was going to out hunting in the morning. They had a decent amount of supplies, but he should catch a few things while they had the opportunity. At first Rick tried to talk him out of it, citing they would need his help if the other group came around. However, after a while the Sheriff eventually realized Daryl needed to get out more than just for the sake of hunting.

Inside the cellblock, Glenn and Maggie had found a storage closet, like Oscar had promised, in the basement level of the building. It looked to be mostly a janitorial closet with some excess bedding. They found a few supplies like flashlights with some spare batteries, also cleaning supplies. The rest of the day was spent with the group deciding to focus their anxiety on cleaning the cellblock. Bleach was used on the blood stains on the wall and soon the air was thick with the smell of cleaners. Carol and Lori took it upon themselves to change out all the sheets, for the moment just leaving the dirty ones in the laundry room until they figured out a means of washing. It was a step closer to making their part of the prison home and trying to keep their minds off the meeting tomorrow.

The greatest moment of the day came from when Glenn and Maggie emerged after a long disappearance from into the basement. They were both glowing from excitement and a bit flustered, leaving little to the imagination as to what the young couple was doing. What wasn't lost on the group was their clothing and how their hair, Maggie's especially, clung to their heads dripping wet. T-Dog made a crack at Glenn, how he didn't think he had it in him. The Asian ignored the comment and announced to the others in one word, "Showers!"

The group discovered the large shower area in the basement beyond the laundry room. While it was a prison shower, which left nothing for privacy, it still had running water. No one complained over the fact it was only cold water because even that was a relief to the Georgia heat. They took turns with the women going first, while a few of the men stood guard outside the doors before alternating.

The rest of the night passed peacefully, which seemed to be ironic considered they were in a prison that more than half of it was full of dead. They kept the lights from the flashlights low and the guards outside. Early before the first dawn light, Daryl kept to his word and slipped from his perch on the second level of the cell block to disappear outside for his hunt.

* * *

The thick fog of the Georgia morning settled heavily over the prison. It clouded everything in the horizon and was making 'RadioShack's visuals irritatingly difficult. The heavy humidity and combination of sweat kept the mud smeared all over their face moist, also rather itchy but they had grown accustom to that. 'RadioShack' was perched in the branches of a tree a few yards off from the tree line outside the prison close to the cell block D. Between the heavy fog and the camouflage of the military uniform, it was doubtful anyone would spot the small figure in the branches. This time 'RadioShack' wasn't carrying any heavy weapons, confident that the hunting knife on their belt and speed would be able to get out of a jam.

A pair of binoculars was raised to 'RadioShack's eyes as they watched the activity, mostly in the exercise field that the group of survivors. It was possible to make out the Sheriff, but the others 'RadioShack' wasn't terribly familiar with, but used this opportunity to watch their interactions, mannerisms, and body language. Glenn and T-Dog were helping Rick move the vehicles into the field and directing how he wanted them parked. Meanwhile, Maggie and Carol were helping move bodies to pile and be loaded into one of the vehicles, so they could dump them outside the field. Rick had mentioned something about not wanting to possibly contaminate the soil by burning or burying any in the field. Carl was perched on top of the guard tower, keeping an eye over things.

'RadioShack' did a head count on the figures that could be seen moving about outside. Six were in the field, which left four to likely still be inside the cell block. 'RadioShack's thoughts wandered while watching the group, still formulating how exactly they would handle this group and what level of cooperation could be expected. If anything, the clearing of the field confirms their suspicions that this group intends to stay here for the long haul.

The sun was starting to make a more determined appearance as the morning fog was slowly dispersing. It was around then that 'RadioShack' made a realization and cursed under their breath for not realizing it sooner. The hunter that had been with the Sheriff was nowhere in sight this entire time. It could have been possible that he was inside with the rest, maybe attending to the injured one they had mentioned yesterday. But 'RadioShack' would have figured he would be outside with the other men helping with the bodies and vehicles.

'RadioShack's thoughts were cut short by a low whistle coming from the forest floor and behind them. Whipping their head around, 'RadioShack's eyes widened at the sight of a crossbow aimed directly at them. "_Shit_," 'RadioShack' hissed.

Daryl was standing about twenty feet away from the tree. He had picked up on fresh human tracks this morning, which didn't stumble and limp with the same type of gait as a walker. He followed it for a bit before spotting the crouched figure in the tree. It was possible to make out the military uniform and helmet, as well as a small black hiking backpack. Immediately, he recognized the small stature as the gas mask one. The 'General' wouldn't have been nearly nimbly enough to get that high in the tree. Daryl initially wanted to put an arrow straight into the back of the bastard and watch them fall like the raccoons he's hunted so many times.

But something stopped him and it took him a minute to recognize that burning feeling. Revenge.

He wanted more than just to put the aggressor down like an animal. He wanted to point his weapon in the face of this 'RadioShack' and see the look on his face before he killed him. The man had gotten on the one up on Daryl in the courtyard, but this about more than just stand off. It was about all the times things had been taken out of his control. The farm being overrun, losing Sophia, losing Merle. Shooting this bastard in the tree wouldn't do it right, but it was something.

That was why he gave 'RadioShack' that whistle of warning, but he hadn't expected such a swift reaction. The binoculars were dropped, seemingly carelessly to the ground with a distinct crunch once it hit the roots of the tree. Daryl thought 'RadioShack' would freeze like a deer caught in headlights, or probably scrambling to climb down the tree, but he was not expecting for them to literally jump out of the tree.

The free fall was broken by 'RadioShack' grabbing onto a sturdy branch part way with both hands. If it hadn't been for the gloves, their hands probably would've been ripped up pretty good by the bark. But that didn't save 'RadioShack' from the jarring feeling in their shoulders as they swung away from the tree and landed heavily on the ground. The impact caused their knees to buckle quite a bit and 'RadioShack' didn't waste time to look back at Daryl before darting off quickly into the woods.

"Damnit," Daryl grunted quickly took off after 'RadioShack'. The jump hadn't really put much distance between the two of them, but he hadn't been expecting a chase. His eyes focused on the fleeting back, which at times was hard to focus on because of the forest colors of the clothing. He gripped tightly to the crossbow, which was still loaded and ready to pull off a shot.

He could easily shoot him dead right now, Daryl thought to himself as the two ran through the woods.

'RadioShack' didn't hesitate to duck around trees, jump over logs, and dodge low hanging branches. They ran with the confidence and familiarity to the environment around them. Not once did 'RadioShack' glance over their shoulder to see how close Daryl was. In truth, they didn't need to because of the frantic heavy steps as he tried to keep up. Daryl was only barely aware of the prison on their left side as they moved a little deeper into the forest.

He could shoot, but he wouldn't get that satisfaction he wanted. All he could see was the back of their hiking pack, the military issue helmet, and the heavy black boots snapping on twigs and kicking up mud. Daryl barely put any thought into the chance that they could run into a walker at any point; he was too focused on catching the prey in front of him.

He was gaining a few steps. Despite all this, it appeared that 'RadioShack' was travelling in a specific path because every now and then they would dart towards their left, just slightly changing direction. Possibly keeping the prison in check.

He was getting closer to 'RadioShack', almost within reach if he really stretched. If he could get them to falter, that would be enough to reach out and grab them. One shot, Daryl thought to himself, then he could grab him and subdue him with his knife so he can see the look on his face before putting him down.

_Thud_. An arrow snuck into the bark of a tree just a foot or two where 'RadioShack's head would've been in the next moment.

Their eyes widened at the realization of seeing the red shaft of the arrow. The boots slide against the thick moss covering the roots of the tree. 'RadioShack' hesitated slightly in their strides, but quickly decided to duck and continue on. Before they could take two more steps though, 'RadioShack's head jerked back violently.

Daryl had roughly thrown the crossbow back over his shoulder and gotten a firm grip on the back of 'RadioShack's helmet. The next actions happened so quickly they almost seemed a blur to Daryl's eyes. 'RadioShack's hands snapped up to their neck when he pulled back the helmet. The force cause 'RadioShack's feet to go out from under them. What shocked him the most was their reaction though. The small figure jerked and twisted in a manner, emitting such a guttural sound that seemed to be a mix of a growl and screech. It was a strained and such an angry sound, strangled by the straps on the helmet. The reaction reminded Daryl of the way a feral dog would almost choke itself against a catcher's noose or its first leash. The hands that reached for 'RadioShack's neck went with purpose for the clasp of the helmet let loose in the next instance. The helmet hung loosely as 'RadioShack' dropped to the ground in a heap.

What caused Daryl to stop dead in his tracks was the bundle of hair that spilled out from under the helmet. All around the neck and the rest of the hair line was covered and smeared with mud. There was no mistaking the messy, clumps blonde hair that now flowed loosely down to just below 'RadioShack's shoulders. Daryl stopped with the helmet in one hand and his other hand about to pull out his hunting knife. 'RadioShack' looked up at him while scrambling on all fours to then get back on their feet with frantic green eyes, a look of pure wildness. Everything in that glance clicked in Daryl's mind, shattering his intentions.

'RadioShack' was a woman.

"'the fuck?," Daryl muttered and blinked.

His hesitation was all that 'RadioShack' needed to get to her feet and break out into a sprint. Just like that, the chase resumed. Daryl snapped out of it and roughly tossed the helmet aside and took off after the blonde.

He darted after her with a renewed vigor, only a few steps behind, but this time it was different. The burning feeling for revenge dissipated the moment he realized she was a woman. That wasn't the face that he had been wronged by. The ones that had beaten him down in life were men, the ones that caused him pain were always men, and even the walkers that got Sophia were men. He wanted answers, but to what questions he hadn't decided as she led him further through the forest.

Looking at the back of her now, the way her figure moved now he mentally kicked himself for not seeing it sooner. She was small and agile, not quite built like the other men. It was impossible to tell her exact shape though with the baggy clothing, the hiking pack, and he was willing to bet there may be some sort of vest underneath.

The forest broke away quickly and 'RadioShack' was scrambling up a small embankment with Daryl shortly behind her. The ground gave away to the asphalt pavement of a road, which 'RadioShack' turned harshly to the left and went into a full on sprint, unhindered by dodging and having to make careful footing. The blonde mess of hair was whipping back wildly behind her as she began pumping her arms, running along the single lane road.

Despite the protest in his legs, aching with burn from the long run, Daryl continued after her. He could feel the heavy panting of his breath and the thick sweat started to form under his clothes, accelerated by the harsh morning sun. Up ahead he could now see why he was led on this route. The road they were on must have been the main road leading to the prison. He could see two guard towers on either side of the front fencing.

As they grew closer, Daryl was starting to steadily close the gap between him and 'RadioShack'. He could also see where at one point there must have been the front gate to the prison. Instead, it was a twisted mess of fencing where a military convoy truck had crashed and turned onto its side. Within the fence area, he could back out the figures of walkers shuffling back and forth. More alarmingly, written in red, presumably blood in sloppy script along the roof of the truck was "ALL DEAD GO BACK".

Regardless of the warning, 'RadioShack' still sprinted straight ahead towards the truck. She chanced a glance over her shoulder, seeing the hunter a lot closer than she had hoped he would be. He would be on her back before she could climb over and clear the truck.

"RADIOSHACK! Stop!" Daryl shouted, almost in a vain attempt, not exactly expecting her to listen.

The voice almost startled RadioShack since they had mostly running in silence the entire time. To Daryl's surprise, she skidded to a halt about thirty feet from the over turned truck. She held her hands at her sides, clenched into fists while her eyes remained fixated on the truck, her escape route. Her chest heaved up and down heavily, panting slightly to catch her breath.

Daryl slowed to a stop a few steps away from her, for a moment placing his hands on his knees and only then realizing just how winded he was. "Damnit girl, just wanna talk," He grunted as he stood up once more and took a step towards her. She had her body half turned to him and refused to look him in the eye.

"Female or woman would be a preferred master status. Girl insinuates child and children are incapable of providing their own nourishment and survival," RadioShack answered in an automatic like tone, the feminine touch more noticeable without the gas mask or purposeful roughness.

Daryl scrunched his face and looked at her in bewilderment. What a bizarre way to say she didn't like to be called that name. He didn't have a good answer for that. He did take the moment to get a closer look at her face. It was still covered in mud and impossible to tell just how old she was, but now he could really see it was a woman with angular, narrow features and he berated himself for being so dull earlier.

At his lack of answer, RadioShack grew anxious and took a step to move away from him towards the truck. Sensing her leaving, Daryl said, "Hey wait." He reached out and made a mistake by grabbing her forearm.

An impact jerked his head far to the right with a distinct crunch against his mouth. He barely processed that mean right hook before his knees buckled and his legs were kicked out from under him. The scenery around him blurred in a rush of green and blue sky, realizing he was falling a second before his head cracked harshly against the pavement of the road.

After having punched Daryl, RadioShack had dropped to a crouch in the process of kicking out his legs by the back of his knees. She didn't linger long enough to see if he was still conscious or not, she pushed her legs and ran back towards the truck, ignoring the throbbing pain in her hand. Reaching the cab of the truck, she hoisted herself up climbing to the driver side that now pointed towards the side. On the other side of the truck was a mangled mess of fencing and barb wire. Carefully, she maneuvered through it to the walkway that led straight ahead of her to the main doors of the administration building.

A few bodies of walkers laid in the walkway, having been bashed in the head several days ago. However, the ones in the fields on either side of the walkway were still moving. She could hear some moans and jingling of the fence as she ran towards the heavy double doors. Not bothering to take them out, she yanked a door open and slammed it heavily behind her, placing her back against the door and slowly sliding down to a seat.

Inside the lobby of the administration was completely dark with the lack of power. The air was heavy and musty with a thick layer of dust. Aside from the faint moans outside, the only other noise was the heavy panting of RadioShack. Her body was on fire from ache and adrenaline. She hadn't been expecting such a long and close chase. Her mind raced over all that had happened so fast in the last minute. Her fists were clenched tightly and shook, despite the pain that radiated from her right hand.

Lashing out with an animalistic yell, she slammed her right hand harshly against the metal doors three times. The doors shuddered and shrieked in response, rousing up some of the walkers outside even further. Completely fired up, RadioShack pushed herself to her feet and took off quickly into the lobby, pushing past other doors and making her way with determined footsteps back towards camp.

The back access door of the administration camp closest to the two buses burst open forcefully as RadioShack emerged. The noise caused the older man to rise from his seat at the circle and lower the radio from his mouth. Jonathan and Lucas were nowhere in sight, having been sent to the infirmary this morning.

Seeing the frazzled appearance of RadioShack, mud covered face with blonde hanging about her in dirty clumps and holding onto her right wrist, he started walking towards her. "What happened?" His light eyes showing concerned alarm.

"He fucking got me, Gabe," She answered in a voice shaking with rage, a strong contrast to the normally coolly collected tone.

He stepped closer to her wanting to grab her by her shoulders to see if he was okay, but his hands stopped a foot short on either side. "What do you mean? Who got you?" He asked, trying to stare straight into the woman's eyes.

She only fleetingly would look up at his eyes, clearly uncomfortable with maintaining eye contact. "That fucking hillbilly! The redneck," She hissed, looking down and flexing her hand slowly. It screamed in pain at each small movement.

"How?"

RadioShack shifted anxiously on her feet, but didn't dare step into either of his hands. She was almost like a caged animal. "I don't know! He was fucking watching me and then chased me all the way to the front gate. He grabbed me. _Twice_."

He furrowed his brows, only half understanding what she was talking about, but it usually went that way anyhow. Looking down at her hands, he then noticed the swelling of her knuckles and the skin was already starting to discolor. "Did he follow you after that?"

RadioShack looked away from him and past the buses towards the parking lot not too far away from their camp. Her shoulders were tense and she took a few deep breaths, trying to gain some control before shaking her head no.

"What did you do to him?" He asked another question, in that calm tone of voice that he had used for years to interrogate her with, but she couldn't care enough to mock right now.

"I punched him in the face and knocked him on his ass, of course," She answered quickly in such a serious note that he almost missed the slight tug of a smirk on his face.

He let out a sigh of relief and chuckled, "That's my girl."

She didn't answer his laugh. Her eyes still darted about and she continued to flex her hands, particularly her right one. She had to keep it moving, regardless of how much it hurt, she told herself.

"Did you break it again?" He asked in a gentler tone, looking down at her hand.

"No," She snapped harshly. "Maybe… It doesn't matter!" Her patience for the conversation had run out. She took a couple of steps backwards to dodge his hands and physically get away from his scrutiny.

"Hey! Get it together," He called after her as she started to turn her back on him. The gentle and concern tones in his voice gone, replaced by harsh seriousness while she took a few strides towards the parking lot.

"You know the other two can't see you like this," He added, almost in a threatening tone, which was enough to stop her and look back over her shoulder at him. Not directly in the eye, but enough her attention was clearly his. Her clenched jaw didn't budge to say anything.

"We need the General for that meeting," He finished coolly, placing his hands on his hips.

A long awkward silence passed as RadioShack looked down before finally giving a curt nod.

* * *

_Author's Note: Phew, another intense chapter! Let me know what you guys think. As you may have figured out by now, this isn't the typical damsel in distress, love at first sight Daryl fanfic you normally see._

_Oh, also apparently I'm an idiot and got the names of Axel and Oscar backwards. For some reason, watching the show I just assumed the old guy was Oscar and the African American guy was Axel. So what do you guys think I should do to avoid confusion? Correct the names in the previous chapters or carry on anyway as it is?_

_Next chapter we'll find out what happens to Daryl and what happens in the meeting. Maybe some Carl action too!_


End file.
